


Couch Cushions

by mayalinified



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Coming of Age, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Practice Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1488133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayalinified/pseuds/mayalinified
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We could put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were kids."</p><p>Furniture modification and three kisses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Couch Cushions

Steve isn't afraid of the dark. Bucky pretends that he isn't. Yet he adamantly keeps the flashlight on and by his side at all times just so Steve isn't inclined to turn it off during the night. It's an old rusted tin thing with a rickety handle and a bulb that flickered if you set it down too hard, but it successfully illuminates the tent they've made with a single sheet and their own two bodies.

"Hey Steve, you aren't tired yet are ya?" Bucky jokes. He pokes at Steve's ribs, knowing that it's the spot where he's most ticklish.

The blonde boy lets out a cackle of laughter, squealing a bit as he tries to get a way, and then quickly covers his own mouth. Bucky he grins at him, covering Steve's hand for extra protection from the sound escaping.

"Shhh," he warns. Slowly, he pulls his hand away. "You'll wake up your ma."

They both share a secretive little giggle and lean into each other. Innocently, as two twelve year olds are to how their bodies are allowed to make contact with one another - not understanding quite yet how boys aren't allowed to put their hands on one another, sleep with their foreheads together, let their breath mingle as the sleep. Steve has his hands curled up under his cheek and he struggles, and fails, to keep his eyes open. He doesn't have any trouble falling asleep on the scratchy wool of the couch cushions, but Bucky does, though he never mentions it. He stares at Steve unabashedly.

"Hey," he whispers. 

Steve opens one eye and smiles a bit, "Yeah Buck?"

"You think about girls at all?"

Steve opens both eyes, confused

"Well, yeah, I think about them all the time."

He has absolutely no idea what he means and that's entirely clear on his face.

Bucky rolls onto his back with a sigh at the innocence in Steve's response. His nose scrunches up slightly; the same way it does when he tells Steve about something unpleasant. So Steve reaches out and pokes it. "What are you makin' that face for?" And Bucky laughs, swatting his hand away.

"Just thinkin' about that girl Sarah."

He's referencing the pig-tailed pretty blonde girl down the street. Steve had noticed her taking a liking to him and the other day he'd seen Bucky giving her a bunch of little wild flowers he'd picked up in the lot they played in. It wasn't strange behavior, Steve knew a couple guys already flirting with girls and calling them their sweethearts. None of the girls were very interested in him, but they all whispered about Bucky when they thought he wasn't pay attention.

"Thinking about what?" he asks, genuine in his curiosity.

"She says she wants to be 'my girl' and told me today she wants to kiss me some. I never kissed anyone before and I don't want her to think I'm bad at it. I wanna kiss her like.." he turns back to Steve, propping his cheek on his hand. "Like in the movies, y'know?"

"Well I'm sure you can learn how to," Steve offers, feeling just as hopeless when it came to the subject as Bucky did. If not worse off.

"Yeah," Bucky trails off and looks down at the cushion with a little blush, "I don't got a way to practice." His fingers pick at the pilling fabric absentmindedly. Steve blushes, too. 

There's dead silence between the two boys for span of time Steve is compelled to end.

"You can...um...practice on me if you want?" Steve manages in a small voice. His eyes are on Bucky's, even though he's desperate to look away. It's an embarrassing suggestion in the first place and it's only made worse that Bucky doesn't answer right away. He just looks at Steve, with his blue eyes wide and the blush on his cheek spreading to his chest and neck. Steve had only seen it before a few times, when Bucky caught doing something he wasn't supposed or when he failed to do something right. A clear sign of his self-consciousness that he kept well hidden in any other situation.

"Or..you don't have to," Steve hurries to say. "I just thought I-I'd offer. If you're worried about it."

Bucky sounds shocked, "You'd let me?"

A nervous grin spreads over Steve's face. "Well yeah, Buck, you're my best friend." Bucky smiles back at that, smiles wide and scheming. He runs his fingers through his brown hair as he starts to rationalize it.

"Just one little kiss so I know what to expect. And it won't even count as my first one cause you are I are just best friends. We're both guys anyhow and kisses only count between boys and girls that like each other." 

Steve nods and sits up entirely so the sheet that rests over them is thrown aside. He shifts so he's sitting with his legs criss-crossed, facing Bucky expectantly. "Whenever, you're ready." He's a little scared, but he doesn't want to show that. And he trusts Bucky more than anything.

The other boy joins him in his position, sitting in the same way so their knobby knees touch through the linen of their pajama pants. Steve's hair is a little stuck up on one side from laying on it and there's the faint indention of the fabric of the couch on Bucky's cheek. They share a nervous little smile and then Bucky puts his hands on his own knees and leans forward.

Their lips meet chastely, just the soft pressure of their mouths together, ungraceful and unpracticed. Both of their eyes squint shut and the heat of the room blooms out and rises exponentially. Steve's surprised by the warmth of Bucky's mouth, the softness of his lips. He's surprised how much he likes it.

They hold the position for a moment until Bucky pulls back. There's a little smile on his face, bashful and rather unlike him. He looks at Steve and then looks down.

"That was..." he laughs, and shakes his head. "Felt kinda funny."

Steve immediately frowns. He sounds utterly dejected as he speaks, "Oh? Did I do it wrong?"

Bucky shrugs and meets his eyes, "No, it wasn't funny in a bad way. I wouldn't know anymore than you would how it's supposed to feel." He pauses for a moment, muttering to himself. "Wasn't like the movies though." His hand scratches at his chin, deep in his own thoughts.

"Maybe try it a little different," Steve offers. He reaches down, tentative, and takes Bucky's hands. "Like the movies right?"

With the memory of all those films they'd seen in his head, he places Bucky's hands in the optimal positions for romantic effect. One is put on the back of his head and the other is placed on his cheek. Bucky nods in understanding and glances down. 

"You oughta put your hands on my shirt the way a girl would," he says. Steve gives Bucky a petulant glance at the suggestion that he's playing the girl - even though he knows full well that it's the role he's fulfilling for Bucky. He follows the instruction by letting his fingers rest on Bucky's collarbone through his pajama shirt.

"Go on," he confirms.

Bucky does, titling his head so their lips meet at an angle and fit against each other. This time Steve can feel the wetness of their mouths, infinitely aware of the sound of them breathing in the quiet room. The blush on his cheeks is burning this time and it makes his whole body shake - like when he ran faster than he ought to be, adrenaline pushing him on. His eyes open slightly, wondering how Bucky looks, and it shocks him to see Bucky is already watching him. Their eyes meet and he pulls away quickly, before Bucky does, and shrugs out of the other boy's hands.

"That alright?"

Steve notices how shocked Bucky looks, too, his eyes even wider this time. 

"Yeah," he says, unfocused. "Yeah, Steve. I'm real tired. We should go to bed."

Steve agrees and doesn't complain any when Bucky decides to sleep with his back to him.

***

They lie shoulder to shoulder on the floor, where the cushions are pushed together to make a bed of sorts. How they'd do when they were little kids and Bucky would stay over, even though they knew as teenagers it was a silly thing to still be doing . An hour before they'd stopped by the bodega down the block for two cold bottles of coke. It was the only place in the neighborhood you could get drinks that cold and they were lucky to find them still in stock so late in the afternoon on a blistering day like this.

Bucky has shirt mostly unbuttoned and the muscle definition of his chest that had been developing rapidly over the past few months is exposed to the unhelpful stuffy breeze. Steve glances at him, noticing how every day their difference in size grows and grows. Steve's shirt is open too, but all he has is pale skin and a couple of bruises on his collarbone where some big guy slammed by the shoulder up against a brick wall.

"Those still hurt?" Bucky asks. He drinks his coke carefully so he doesn't have to sit up and pulls his lips off the bottle top with a _pop_.

Steve shrugs, "A little. They don't bother me, though."

Bucky is nodding when Steve looks at him, but he doesn't look convinced. 

"You know I saw that guy the other night with Grace," Bucky laments. His face contorts with sympathy for Steve and he looks almost pained to have to break it to him. "Sorry, pal. I'm sure it won't last."

Of course the news hits Steve like a ton of bricks. After pining after her months to no avail he'd decided to try to talk to her. She'd ignored him mostly, and he when he walked back to the table of the restaurant that he and Bucky were sharing, Bucky bought him a bowl of ice cream. Sure he knew he was skinny, but he wasn't invisible. It stung, having a girl pass him over for a jerk like that guy. He was hassling little kids for their pocket money when Steve had crossed his path. What kind of decent guy did anything like that?

"S'okay," he says with a little sigh. "She never liked me much anyhow."

Again, Bucky doesn't seem convinced.

"I'm sure you'll have a gal wanting to go with you for your birthday," he offers. "That's only a few weeks out. All those fireworks. I could get you a date by then."

Steve takes a sip of his drink and then looks at Bucky's mouth just as he licks it. His mouth dries out uncomfortably and then he looks away with a slight shake of his head, "I dunno, Buck."

Bucky brushes off Steve's trepidation with a laugh. He rolls to his side and looks at him with a smirk, "Give me a few days and I get girls to line up around the block to go out with you on your birthday. Might even get your first kiss huh?" He knocks Steve's shoulder with the butt of the bottle in attempt to get him to smile. Which of course Steve does, as he does in response to any attempt Bucky makes to cheer him up. He's got a way of doing that, making him smile no matter what.

"I've already had my first kiss," Steve mutters, looking down at his own bottle as he rests it on his stomach.

"Really?" Bucky looks surprised, then knocks him a little harder so the coke fizzes up. "Why didn't you tell me, punk?"

Steve blushes, immediately regretting saying anything at all.

"Well speak up, Steve. Curious minds want to know."

"I mean you uh.." Steve swallows so hard that it hurts. "You were there, I was twelve." 

Bucky looks entirely taken aback, his eyebrows going up with the undeniable evidence of a blush on his cheeks. On his neck, too, as it would appear. He tries to hide it by pulling his shirt collar up to his chin, but it's not subtle enough of a cover that Steve doesn't notice. His eyes are on him, seeming almost ashamed, "You count that?"

The way he says it makes Steve like maybe he shouldn't have, yet...

"Well it was a kiss wasn't it?" He asks of Bucky, wanting a legitimate answer from his friend. Back then Bucky had said it didn't count, but it was ridiculous chain of logic that only a kid could fathom into truth. And since, all along, he'd been entirely comfortable with Bucky Barnes being the first kiss he ever had.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I guess. But we were kids. It wasn't like a  _real_ kiss." Apparently it had just developed into ridiculous fifteen year old logic.

Steve throws him a little scowl, "Well excuse me for not knowing the difference." There's defense in his tone and mostly it's just because he's starting get more and more embarrassed every second that they stay on the subject. "Felt pretty real to me."

Bucky sighs, digressing, "I didn't mean it like  _that_. I just mean that was a little peck, y'know? Kisses are more than that. Even you gotta know, just watching movies."

He can't exactly argue with that.

"Well I guess I'll have to wait until that date, huh?" Steve says, not meaning to sound as nearly as defeated as he does.

There's a pause and then Bucky sighs, "Hey." He props himself up on one elbow and looks down at Steve with a soft smile. "You gonna count it if I show you what it's like?" His eyes are on Steve's mouth and that gaze is like pure heat to his skin. Every part of him sets on fire just at the prospect of Bucky kissing him again. Because he shouldn't be kissing other guys. Because Bucky is his friend. Because he's immediately too eager for it with his tongue darting out to wet his lips and his heart picking up speed in his chest.

"You don't have to do that, Buck," Steve starts to say but Bucky cuts him off.

"Kinda want to."

Steve must loose as much color as he feels he does, because Bucky is quick to clarify, "You know, to help you out so you don't send some dame screaming when you kiss her all wrong."

There's that sparkle of a grin, the one Bucky is always using to send girls weak-kneed and everyone scrambling over themselves for a space in his light. Steve fell into that later category, and if he were a girl he is absolutely sure he'd fall into the former as well.

Steve lets out a soft sigh when Bucky's hand comes to his cheek, the touch of his fingers on his ear send chills down his spine. Steve eyes slip closed as Bucky leans in close so he can't see him come into his space, but he can feel him there. He feels summer heated skin and he feels his breath on his mouth, smelling like the soda they drink and the candies they'd shared earlier in the park.

He feels the gentle press of lips.

His mouth is as warm and soft as he remembers, but there's something different to the way they kiss now. There's weight to it and it's heavy on Steve's chest so his heart is straining to beat in the most satisfying way. He's tentative to put his hands up in Bucky's hair but they make their way there eventually, fingers mussing the slicked brown locks. It's like a trigger that gets Bucky's mouth twisting on Steve's with a sweet smack of lips on lips. 

They kiss slow and over and over. Their mouths shift on each other's until they're thoroughly covered with the taste of one another. Steve doesn't feel out of sync from the rhythm Bucky sets, he takes to it naturally, wondering how he could have ever thought kissing Bucky would be any different. He feels shy, sure; feels like he can't put his hand too strong on the back of Bucky's head or lean up to kiss him too much, because he isn't certain where the limits are. But it feels good. It feels better than good. He doesn't entertain the thought for too long; but it feels right.

He's sure he doesn't want to stop, but he forces himself to.

And Bucky is laughing as soon as they part. He leans over Steve still, grinning and chuckling in the most relaxed way possible. It makes the tension ease for Steve some, and he lets out a slow laugh along with Bucky's, lets himself smile back up at him.

"I guess I oughta say thanks," Steve jokes, trying to put some humor into the situation where he's rapidly becoming more and more aware of what exactly he'd just done with another boy.

"Probably should keep that between us," Bucky says, running his fingers through his hair own hair. A habit, that Steve is familiar with for it's appearance when Bucky was particularly uneasy. Just for good measure, Steve glances down to confirm that wicked red bloom on his chest and neck. It appeared that even Bucky, confident as he was, was made nervous, too.

Steve nods, "I will." Of course he will.

"Good," Bucky grins. He leans down like he means to kiss Steve's cheek, but his mouth goes towards his ear instead. He whispers to him, even though they're alone. "Keep it our secret."

 

***

He says no at first, thinking that he wants to be alone, but by the third night the feeling of being alone rapidly turns into loneliness. It encroaches on him through the silence of the now empty apartment and he changes his tune. Of course, Bucky keeps good on his promise:

"We could put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were kids."

It feels comfortable to have him there, lying by his side, even if they don't fit on them the way they used to. Bucky's feet dangle off the ends and Steve's hip keeps separating two of the cushions so he ends up mostly on the floor. 

Everything else is mostly the same. Steve brings out the old flashlight and even gives Bucky full control of its placement and usage. Bucky arrives with cokes and some candy and popped corn for them to share. It feels almost like when they were kids. Almost.

"I miss her, Buck," Steve says quietly. He turns to Bucky in the shadowed darkness and frowns slightly. He doesn't want to cry in front of him. Not because he's embarrassed, but because he want's to be strong. For himself, for Bucky, for his mother.

Bucky nods slowly, "I know, pal." He sets his coke aside and doesn't ask Steve's permission before reaching out and dragging him closer. They end up the way they used to sleep as kids; face to face with their foreheads touching. Steve's eyes close immediately and all at once, he feels comfort. 

His hands tuck up to Bucky's chest and he doesn't complain when Bucky keeps his heavy arm draped over to his back. They lie still for a long time until Bucky leans up and kisses his forehead. Steve opens his eyes, only just slightly, so he can sneak a look at Bucky through the dark, taking in what he can see. But Steve stays silent, lets Bucky nose at his hairline and sigh against it. He stays quiet as feels his lips ghost to his temple, to his cheek, down to the corner of his mouth.

The kiss that lands on his lips is the first breath he's taken in days, a breath he didn't even feel himself holding. His hands ball up in Bucky's shirt and he kisses back in the way he never did as a kid. He lets his mouth move against Bucky's like it's the only thing left. And in a way that's true, Steve feels like it is. He'd lost most things over the course of his life, never had anything good stick around for very long. But there was Bucky. There always was.

This time Bucky is letting himself be kissed. His hands busy in Steve's hair, at the nape of his neck and long his prominently notched spine. Every space of contact is like a gasp of air, another breath until Steve's lungs are full and he doesn't feel like he's suffocating anymore.

He pulls away after a long time, and Bucky is looking down at him with the gentler side of his icy blue eyes. He searches Steve's face as if he's trying to find any signs that pain still exists, like he means to take it away the moment he discovers it.

"I meant what I said y'know. I'll stay as long as you want me around. You don't gotta do this alone," he says, then he grins slightly.

"Still gotta shine my shoes though."

Steve even manages to laugh.

"Jerk."


End file.
